Chapter Text
The X-Files Office
October 29th
Scully watched as Mulder turned and left the office, his back stiff, his hands clenched. He reminded her of a petulant child who, knowing he wasn't going to get his way, silently marched away, chin up, pretending he didn't care. And that's exactly how he had sounded just before he turned and left, too. "Fine, I'll go by myself."
She sighed and picked up a pen from his desk. With an exasperated groan, she threw it at the now empty doorway. Now who was acting like a child? Shaking her head slowly, she walked over to her workstation and sat heavily in her chair. Why did he have to be frustrating? And why did she have to be so stubborn? It was an X-File, and they investigated the X-Files, so it should stand to reason that they should both go investigate. But Scully was tired of the traveling, tired of the motels, and tired of trying to find her way around Mulder's paranormal theories. She used to find it all a challenge, but lately things had changed. She had changed. And she didn't know how to make it better.
Werewolves. They were myths. They were not going around Central Minnesota killing dogs... or people. Elbow on her armrest, chin in her hand, Scully went over what Mulder had just told her in her head. Several dogs, mostly large dogs, were being mauled and killed by something in the small town of Wolfcove, Minnesota. Many residents blamed actual wolves, though the local wildlife experts were trying their best to eliminate that theory, stating there would be no reason for the endangered animals to approach a civilized area just to attack domestic dogs.
Three days ago, a 78 year old woman had been found dead, her wounds identical to those found on the mauled dogs. Suddenly, wolves lost their place on the top of the suspect list when someone mentioned that a neighbor of the lady had a pit bull. However, there was no indication that the dog, who had never shown aggressive tendencies and was kept securely on a chain when outside, had done anything wrong. Many had still wanted to blame the dog, demanding it be put down, until yesterday. Yesterday, Mulder had told her, the very dog they wanted to blame had been killed in the same manner as the old woman.
Mulder had reminded her of the Manitou, a case they had investigated in Montana their first year together. Scully had reminded him that there had never been any proof of a Manitou, werewolf, or any other kind of monster. She also reminded him that it was almost Halloween, and some sick person was probably responsible for the deaths. Local law enforcement could handle it.
With a grin, Mulder had told her that Detective Lennox of Wolfcove County had called him up specifically to ask for their help. Apparently, he had once worked with Detective Bocks from Minneapolis, who had nothing but great things to say about the agents who had originally caught Donnie Pfaster years ago, long before his escape and subsequent death at Scully's hand. Mulder hadn't mentioned the last part, knowing how sensitive Scully was about that subject.
Just thinking about Pfaster had caused Scully's stomach to churn; this killer was probably someone as sick and evil as he had been. She wanted nothing to do with it. "I'm not going, Mulder."
"Uh, what part of 'we were asked to help' didn't you understand, Scully?"
Mulder's condescending tone did not make Scully feel any better. "Mulder, you can profile the killer from here just as easily as you could in Minnesota." Strangely enough, she didn't tell him to go by himself; the idea of him investigating anything without her didn't appeal to her any more than flying to some bump in the road town in the Midwest did.
"Scully, you can't 'profile' a werewolf!"
"Mulder, it is not a werewolf!"
"How do you know?"
"Because werewolves don't exist?" she asked sarcastically. "Haven't we had this conversation before?"
His eyes dark and his face grim, Mulder didn't seem amused by her question. "So what you're saying it that you don't want to go?"
Eyes wide, Scully tried not to laugh. "Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying."
To which he responded, "Fine, I'll go by myself."
Grabbing up the files, he had turned and walked out of the office, as petulant as a little boy.
And she must be the little girl who wouldn't play with him, Scully mused silently. There were many days when she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if she had never heard of the X-files. If she had never met Fox Mulder. The thought sent a sharp pain through her heart, and yet, life would be so much easier without him in it. Wouldn't it?
With another sigh, she stood, gathered her things, and locked up the office. She might as well go home for the day, idly wondering if Mulder would 'tell on her.' She didn't think Skinner would be too happy to hear she had refused to go with her partner on a legitimate assignment. Then again, he might just award her a medal of honor for doing so; he, of all people, knew how difficult Mulder was to work with.
Scully reached her car and felt herself sag against it. She should have gone, she thought. Mulder was bound to get himself into trouble without her there to run interference. She reached into her pocket and found her cell phone. He was probably at home, packing; she'd tell him to wait for her. Before she could dial his number, the phone in her hand rang.
"Scully," she answered.
"Hey, do me at least one favor and feed my fish for me, will you?"
No 'hey, it's me.' No 'please.' No hint of apology.
Gritting her teeth, Scully mumbled, "Sure, fine, whatever," and hung up. No 'of course.' No 'good luck.' No 'be careful.' Once again, she felt herself lean on the car. "God, I wish I'd never met the man," she whispered.
"You don't really mean that."
Scully spun around and found herself looking... down. Well, sort of. The man in front of her was a couple inches shorter than her, and that in itself was a shock. His Asian features were surrounded by wrinkles, but she couldn't even guess at his actual age. He wore a neat gray suit with a purple silk tie, and he had a small smile on his lips.
Scully looked around the parking garage, but she could see no one else. She looked again at the Asian man; he wasn't wearing an ID badge, and he wasn't at all familiar to her. "Who are you?" she asked. "How did you get in here?"
"You may call me Yasuo," he told her. "I come and go as I please, or as I am willed to."
"Willed?" Scully took note of the strange phrase, forgetting for the moment to take the cell phone in her hand and call security.
"Do you believe in God, Dana?"
"How do you know my name?"
He simply smiled. "I know you believe in God, therefore you must believe in angels."
Scully stared at him for a moment. "Oh, I see. You're supposed to be an angel." Again she looked around; maybe Mulder hadn't been calling from his house. "Let me guess, you're my guardian angel, and you're about to tell me that I need to go to Minnesota with my partner in order to save my soul."
The little man laughed. "No! Or course not. That's silly." His smile faded. "I'm not really your Guardian angel; that job is actually taken up by more than one entity. You and Fox lead very exciting lives." His eyes glittered through the wrinkles. "I'm just here to help you find your way through this... jungle... you have created in your mind."
Scully, couldn't help herself. She was intrigued.
"Jungle?"
"Yes," Yasuo nodded. "You're lost in it. After all that's happened to you in the last few years, it's understandable. Donnie Pfaster, Samantha, your loss of Emily, which is still eating away at you..."
Scully felt her eyes widen. "How the hell do you know all that?" Again, she searched the parking garage. "Mulder?"
"Fox isn't here, Dana," Yasuo said quietly. "In fact, he's already on his way to the airport. You might still have time to catch him."
Glaring at him, Scully growled, "No."
The little man nodded. "Then maybe you'd like another option."
More unnerved and suspicious than ever, Scully asked, "Like what?"
"What was it you said when I first arrived. 'God, I wish I'd never met that man'?"
Scully cocked her head at him. "What are you, the Ghost of Halloween past?"
He laughed. "I already told you. I'm an angel, not a ghost."
Scully nodded. "Right." She turned away from him, shoving her phone in her pocket and pulling out her car keys. "Nice meeting you, but I have to go."
"Where?"
She paused at his question. "Home," she finally said.
"Alone."
She swung around to face him again. "Yes. Because that's the way I want it."
"Are you sure, Dana?" Yasuo asked. "If you had never met Fox, can you imagine what your life would be like? Maybe you wouldn't be going home to an empty apartment."
Scully's memory swept her back in time. In her mind, she saw Daniel, his smile, his obvious pride and joy in her accomplishments. The love in his eyes. She brought herself back to the present and glared at Yasuo. "The past is the past and the present is now."
"But if you could have a different present..?" His voice trailed off.
"That's not possible."
"I could make it possible," he told her. "Tell me one thing you would change from your past, and I can make it so."
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. But she couldn't do either, not when she believed him. Why in the hell did she believe him? She closed her eyes. If she had never left Daniel for the FBI, she would never have been assigned to the X-Files. She would never have met Mulder. What would her life be like now? Better?
Or worse?
"I wish I'd never joined the Bureau," she whispered, stunned that she was even saying the words.
Yasuo nodded. "If that's what you wish..."
Everything around her suddenly went dark.
******